Menomaeni Before One's Eyes
by introducing-prologue
Summary: The Sanzo party comes to a literally perfect city where all its citizens are brutally destroyed. The city is ruled by madman, who uses a young girl he has kidnapped and controlled as a paintbrush to make his visions of the canvas true and very real...(cha
1. Welcome To Eden

It was just like any other scorching day for the Sanzo party: Hakkai gets lost, they come across a forsaken town, absolutely no population, and it smells of new death. They drive around, survey the setting and try to find any source of life.

"Sanzo?"

"Mm?"

Goku gazed at the monk with large eyes as the jeep went slowly along the town's dirt road. The town was quite large, possibly a city. The buildings, painted with a beige and yellow color, stood menacingly above the puny jeep compared to the city's majestic bearing. The roofs, all the same, were a rich orange-red, which contrasted harmoniously with the yellow paint. It was deathly quiet, expect for the relaxing sounds of a nearby river and birds that flown in and out of gold plated windows of a large bell tower. Every few minutes, the doors of certain buildings (every door was ajar) revealed a horrifying scene of mangled and twisted corpses, all in the moment of a last and fatal scream. This city was a ruined paradise, a dead Eden. The oddest thing about the city was that everything, from the aerial buildings and towers to the tranquil forest surrounding the breached walls, was perfect. Absolutely perfect. Not a spot on city, just the bodies that lay inside the always open structures.

"Something's not kosher. I mean, its really weird. Everyone's dead, but, no scent of any demons."

The jeep stopped abruptly as Hakkai gazed back with a confused and concerned look planted on his ever-smiling face.

"What--?"

"Death smells like it came from a human's hand! "

Gojyo ran hand through his thick and luxurious red hair.

"No sign, huh?"

Hakkai frowned.

"This isn't something funny, Gojyo. One demon couldn't take down a town this large by himself, and not leave a trace besides bodies. And if anything else could, that would mean we are in much trouble to be entering this town."

Sanzo whipped out a cigarette and lit it.

"I don't like this it all. No human could have done this much carnage."

"Maybe." said Goku quietly.

"And what do you mean that, monkey?" spoke Gojyo, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, it smells like a human's hand."

"What?!" yelped Gojyo, "It couldn't be!"

"And what else is rather disturbing, is that it would seem this corpses are new. The smell freshly murdered. Everyone in this city was killed recently at the same time."

Gojyo shuddered.

"Please, can we jut go? This place is freaking me out. No women."

"So the kappa's scared." smirked Sanzo.

"Sanzo," started Hakkai, "Your comments have no place in this time of action."

"So what do you propose we do, your greatness?" scowled Gojyo.

Sanzo opened his eyes lethargically.

"We stay," he said matter-of-factly. "I like the silence."

"Sanzo, this place is so quiet I can hear my own breath!" said Gojyo angrily.

"I'm tired. And if Goku said what is true, about the new corpses and such, then that would mean inn's would have beds ready and the food hasn't spoiled."

"Sanzo..." said Goku pleadingly, "My nose is never wrong. This town, well, city, is screwed up and we should leave!"

"No."

Hakkai sighed and turned the jeep on. It hummed loudly and stopped. The jeep made a nasty sound, like someone had turned a chain saw, and then stopped. The wheel jerked out of Hakkai's hand as he screamed, "Hakuryuu! Are you all right? Everyone, get out of the jeep!"

The party stepped out of the beaten green vehicle as it slowly transformed back into Hakkai's beloved dragon. Hakuryuu was laying on the ground, silently breathing, silently sickening. The blazingly white dragon looked dirty, un-pure compared to the perfect road. Hakkai quickly scooped the pathetic thing into his arms, nestling the dragon with all of his heart, even if Hakkai's heart was full of charred holes.

"It would seem the city would like us to stay for a visit," whispered Hakkai.

Sanzo gazed at the towers that decorated the city.

"The city is quite pleasant. I like the atmosphere." said Sanzo.

_There is a girl with midnight sky colored hair, a painful black, short and cropped. She sits on the edge of large fountain, shaded by the bamboo trees. To her side there stands a large canvas, with but a few strokes dashed upon it. She sits there, gazing at the canvas, as one small tear runs down her cheek. The laughter of children is heard in the distance of the city, as the smiles are accompanied by the sweet melodies of the song birds. The scene is like a happy painting, spoiled by the tearful face of the sitting girl. Happy painting no longer. All is disrupted as a young man with midnight sky colored hair walks slowly to the artist. He sits by her, and gazes foully at the almost-blank painting._

"_Well?"_

_The girl's face jerked up from the painting to the young man. His face was in an ugly glare, a sickening stare. The girl opened her cherry red lips to speak, but no sound was born._

"_What do you paint?"_

_The girl glanced at the softly pouring water of the fountain._

"_Everything."_

_The man's eyes thinned into a look of suspicion._

"_Everything? Can you paint perfection?"_

_The girl shut her eyes._

"_This city is perfection, and I can paint this city."_

"_Show me." said the man, placing a hand on the now-dried canvas. "Paint for me this perfect city. If you can succeed, I will show you more perfection."_

_So the girl did._

"Well?"

"I'm sorry Gojyo, but we're staying, whether we like it our not. Hakuryuu can't transform, and this city's to big to get through in just one day." spoke Hakkai,

"So we're stuck here?" whined Goku.

"Afraid so." Hakkai laughed. "It can't be that bad? Right?"

Nobody was smiling, except for Sanzo who smirked.

"Right. Not bad at all." chuckled Sanzo. It was a well deserved laugh, even in times like this. Sanzo never laughs.

"_Well done painter. Well done indeed," whispered the mysterious man as her surveyed the final product that flourished upon the canvas._

"_I cannot believe..."sighed the girl as her eyes became wider. Like from a trance, she was shaken, surprised, and scared of her own masterpiece. The painted perfection._

"_What can you not believe?"_

"_I could have never...painted such a thing without..."_

_The man laughed a horrible laugh that echoed from the depths of the fountain._

"_Without me. I told you to paint perfection. And you did."_

_The girl nodded sadly. The man leaned in close to her face, and lifted a cascade of hair revealing he ear._

"_I can give your perfection. I tell you to paint, and you will, because I am perfect. Anything I say will become reality through your paints. Gaze upon your beloved city. It has changed, and it is now your painting. The world is your canvas."_

_The girl wrenched at his hand away, and stared into his eyes. Like pools of clear gray water, they reflected her face._

"_At what price?"_

_The man grinned cunningly, like a self satisfied jester._

"_You will belong to me. Your paintings will be mine, and you my paintbrush."_

_The girl gasped and the man placed a pale hand on her cheek._

"_Your skin...like porcelain, smooth as silk," he teased. He suddenly scratched her face. It burned like white hot metal as the girl gave a small scream._

"_But not perfect." he scowled._

_A small tear crept from the girl's eye from the pain._

"_Your lips...like plump fruits, red in blossom." He cam in close and kissed her softly on the mouth. The man then placed a long finger on her closed lips._

"_But not perfect," he whispered, "Be mine, and I'll make you perfect. You'll paint for yourself a new face, at my command. A new life, at my command. New everything."_

_She could take no more. The girl collapsed into his open arms, her hair tangling slightly into the fountain._

The perfect day ended and had grown into a perfect night. The stars shown as brightly as fireflies, and it lit the heavens into a firework show of a glowing sky. There were no clouds to be seen, no white puffs to spoil a night as grand and sublime as such. The Sanzo party found a small inn and decided to stay there. No invitation was needed, as both the keepers of the inn and those who stayed were gone. Destroyed. Dead and perfectly mangled. The Sanzo party was able to find food and Hakkai was able to cook it. A magnificent meal was placed at in the silent dining hall where they ate.

"So. We sleep here, leave in the morning?" asked Goku between bites of food.

"Hopefully. Hakuryuu might not be up for the trip." answered Hakkai.

Sanzo leaned back in his chair with a cigarette in his mouth.

"I love this place. Besides the corpses, everything's _perfect._"

"Don't say that word." said Gojyo quietly.

"What, perfect? What's wrong with that, kappa?"

"That's the reason my mother is dead and my brother is gone."

A silence like no other passed through the room.

"My mother tried to kill me...because I wasn't perfect. A half-breed. A burden."

"Or maybe," said Hakkai, trying to bring cheer back into the gloomy setting, "You were to perfect to cope with?"

Gojyo smiled a half smile.

"It's ok, Hakkai. Its in the past. The past is behind me."

Goku took a large gulp from the glass of water that sat on the table.

"Good food Hakkai, but I'll be off to bed now. Maybe the rooms won't have corpses."

"If we're lucky. Which we are rarely." said Sanzo.

Goku stretched and slumped over.

"Good night, don't let the corpses bite!"

"That's not funny!" yelled Gojyo.

_There is a tower. In the tower there is a room, and it is dark. Enter a girl, with midnight sky colored hair. She sits upon a wooden stool in front of a milk white canvas. Her eyes are shut. A man has his long hands on her shoulder, his fingers dancing to the curve of her body. She opens her eyes and looks at the floor, away from the man, exposing her vulnerable neck to his chilling touch. He leans and kisses her once, twice, thrice on her neck and places an arm around her body._

"_Welcome to my humble bell tower. It is perfect, unlike this animistic city. But that can be changed. This city will be cured of the sickness of impurity. But remember, girl, that you are mine forever, and no one elses," the man said with a steely tone._

_He grabbed her neck and squeezed._

"_But if you forget that, even if you paint for me, the art is mine and you belong to me. You are the paintbrush I wield, and you are mine to use and abuse at my liking, do you understand? Understand?" he hissed in a deathly whisper._

_She nodded and tipped over slightly from the lose of air. He let go and walked to the window. The man gazed out upon the bustling city._

"_So tell me. What is your name, girl?"_

_She turned to face him._

"_It is Mitsuya." _

"_Mitsuya..." he mused, and shuddered. "I hate the way it dances upon my tongue. Your name will be Cornsilk. It's my favorable color."_

"_Cornsilk..." she whispered. He walked toward her and waved his hand vis-à-vis the canvas._

"_Let's start our little modifications with this city. You, after all, said it was perfect. This city is not perfect. It will never be unless my vision is painted. there are certain things to be tweaked, some things that clutter this city with a stench I truly dislike. So paint me a city in the fashion of thus: Make the walls cornsilk. Drown it in silence, saturate it in a flavor of peace and tranquillity. Make the roofs orange, and paint a forest as green as the sea. Make the forest surround the city, and make a wall only breached by the outside world. Make my city pulchritudinous, make it hurt the eyes to gaze upon. Paint it now, and paint it perfectly."_

_And it was done._

The night was subdued in a orchestra of languor, and the Sanzo party was in a deep slumber. Two of the party shared a room and the others shared a room parallel to the other door. Sanzo and Hakkai, opposite of Gojyo and Goku. Sanzo's wishes, of course. Sleeping with the monkey was painful. All he did was snore, snore, and possibly snore some more. That pissed Gojyo more than any of the ominous events that had taken place earlier that afternoon.

"Can you snore any louder, you friggin' monkey?!" yelled Gojyo during the night as he was humbly awaken by the jarring sound of Goku's exhalation.

Gojyo growled and grabbed a pillow. He stormed to Goku's bed and thwacked Goku on the forehead numerous times. With Goku having no reaction of discomfort whatsoever, Gojyo crawled into the blankets and sweet sleep collected his mind once more.

Sanzo and Hakkai were not sleeping, even in the depth of a night so tiring as such. Sanzo drew his shoureiju and placed three bullets into the cylinder.

"Sanzo...is this wise?" muttered Hakkai, as he gazed at the poor frame of Hakuryuu on resting on the night table.

"Yes. Goku's nose is never wrong, though not always right. If the carnage was done by a human hand, and Goku smelled the scent of human within the city, then he must be here still."

"And possibly waiting for us. Sanzo, this could be dangerous."

"And more if you were sleeping."

Hakkai sighed and wiped his brow with his shirt sleeve.

"I guess we come across a lot of dangerous things."

"It would only seem."

_In the gloomy bell tower above the city, Cornsilk watched the children, small dots from the height of the tower. Cornsilk smiled shyly at the children dancing to the gypsy music in the street and she placed a clammy hand to the sun-bathed window.Savouring the moment, she gazed happily and remembered those faraway memories of when she too, danced as a small girl to gypsy music. The magnitude was shattered as the man walked into the room and slammed the door. He had a terrible expression on his face, one twisted with anger and passion and fury, one that could stir terror into the bravest of souls. A pure devil, that face._

"_What are you doing?!" he screeched wildly, dashing toward Cornsilk, as the room seemed to darken and dim according to his steps. The man grabbed her hair and wrenched Cornsilk closer to him. Her smile faded rapidly into a melancholic frown._

"_You were _smiling._ Why? Why do you poison your face in a sick contraction as such of only from the pleasure of the smallest and pathetic little balls of slime? Why?!"_

"_Please, they were dancing--"_

"_ARRGH!"_

_The man pushed Cornsilk against the wooden wall, making it creak to movement of their parallel bodies._

"_You will paint me a city with no children! NO CHILDREN! NO small beings of sickening _delight._" he yelled with a fiery passion. Cornsilk slowly crumbled to his feet._

"_If you ever smile again, I will _kill _you." the man spoke as he thrusted his foot into her belly. Cornsilk grasped her stomach and coughed a small amount of blood onto the floor. The man scrutinized the blood stains and bellowed, _

"_AND DON'T STAIN MY PERFECT FLOOR!" With that, he left with a quick and angry stride. Cornsilk quickly mopped the blood with her sleeve before falling into a deepening and murky coma..._

_She awoke to fine the man sitting at the wooden stool, lowering above her._

"_Fool," he hissed, "Now get up. Stand like the human being you _aren't_, not like a waste of human life and labor. We have much work to complete, and not the time fall,"_

_Cornsilk heavily stood, ignoring the searing throb in her abdomen. The man roughly pulled her between his open legs. Cornsilk placed her hands on his shoulders and around his neck for the support. Grinning maliciously, tracing a finger down the curve of her neck and her breasts, he taunted, "You are forever mine...My own to keep, to use and abuse at my liking," The man laughed like a madman, "And if you forget it, I will cut you and slice you into 1000 pieces!" _

_Cornsilk bit her bottom lip to stop the tears from falling as the man jaunted patronizingly and screamed. A true phantom he was, a masterful devil. _

"_Now paint." he said abruptly in a harsh and scratchy voice, stepping out of the stool and pushing Cornsilk on the cushion._

"_Destroy the children," he croaked. Cornsilk wept as she grabbed her paint brush with a shaking hand and dipped it into a blood red paint below the canvas..._


	2. Angel With the Flaming Sword

Sanzo and Hakkai had quietly crept from the inn to the open road, which only a few feet away from their line of vision was obscured from the now dark sky. The stars had dimmed, and they no longer shined as if their swirling gases were set aflame.

"That's odd..." remarked Hakkai, observing the sky, surveying it carefully to its fullest.

"Really?" said Sanzo sarcastically.

"The stars...they're not...as bright," muttered Hakkai, pointing at one small dot in the sky. "Even the planets are caliginous..."

Sanzo stopped to glare at the stuffed moon that hung low in the sky as if someone had tied it the stars, and it had fallen to close to the ground.

"Damn moon...someone should torch the friggin' thing. I can't see in front of me,"

"Maybe that's the city's doing."

"Don't make me shudder."

The two tired young men made their way painstakingly slow along the road, grasping on the buildings so not to trip on any corpse that possibly found its grave outside the structures. Overtime, they had hiked past seven buildings and were then working on crossing the bell tower that loomed above them threateningly, as if the bell could plummet and smash their heads in only a matter of seconds. Suddenly, like an arrow fired through fog, Sanzo and Hakkai heard a small sound that penetrated the still night. A quiet creaking, and slowly, they realized it originated from the alley across the road. A remote sound, barely recognizable. Sanzo couldn't place his finger on it.

"That sound...like a human walking..." croaked Hakkai. A sweat droplet lingered at his temple. Sanzo chuckled to himself.

"Corpses?"

"No...someone alive. Waiting."

"Right. Let's greet them, shall we?"

They stumbled across the road and carefully entered the thin alley.

"One at a time," whispered Hakkai, "They alley's to thin for both of us together,"

So they filed into the darkness, one by one, sluggishly. The creaking stopped.

"The movement...its disappeared," murmured Hakkai.

"No shit Sherlock."

"It senses us."

"Perhaps."

Impetuously, a sudden thump! was heard as Hakkai hastily turned around to face a corpse dangling in midair head on, suspended by a rope tightening its neck, its

pupil-less eyes bulging, mouth gaping(the jaw was broken fiercely), flies borrowing into its hair.

"Dear god..." gasped Hakkai as stepped back, knocking into Sanzo as they both tripped to the ground.

Sanzo was greeted by another corpse, this one frozen in a magnitude of terror. The corpse's arms were locked, clawing at it's own face in utter horror, hanging above him.

"Holy shit!" yelled Sanzo as Hakkai began to faint on top of him. Sanzo crumbled to the ground, dizzy from the rotting stench. He blacked out as Hakkai did the same.

"_Cornsilk...oh Cornsilk...where have the children gone? Where have the precious beasts gone now?" sang the man sweetly, horridly, as Cornsilk sobbed into her hands. Her face was in a terrible mess, tears staining her pale cheeks. The man placed a tender hand on her face. Although a wretched, sadistic man, there seemed a hint of beauty in his taunting face._

"_My poor Cornsilk! You weep...poor, poor, wretched, pathetic, worthless Cornsilk!" comforted the man, "Lift your head high, for you have done a wondrous act. You have pleased me, and it shall not be forgotten!"_

_He smiled happily as she screamed into her hands._

"_I am the perfect Creator! My visions are perfect, and you have begun to fulfill my perfect dreams! Well done, my Cornsilk, little Cornsilk, my pet..."_

_Cornsilk slapped the hand away as the man's expression darkened._

"_You're mad," she whispered, trembling in defiance,_

"_What did you say?" he whispered dangerously._

"_You're...ma--"_

"_DO YOU DARE DEFY ME, YOU VIPER, YOU LURID CREATURE?!"_

_Cornsilk lost all breath as he grabbed her neck and squeezed. She made several attempts to wrench his hand away but failed. Cornsilk opened her mouth, tried with all the strength she muster to catch a single breath of air._

"_Yes! Yes, that's it, a few more moments of utter pain and it will all be over..." he whispered as Cornsilk sagged, her face almost blue from lose of breath._

"_But wait! I sense a greater punishment...other ways I can deal with you...Yes, of course, an act of rewarding obedience and punishing defiance fused into one!"_

_He howled with screeching laughter and let go of Cornsilk's neck. He pushed her violently to the floor and rolled Cornsilk onto her back. He grinned slyly, savoring the tasteful moment of when Cornsilk realized how much grief and pain would befall her. The man bent over her and roughly grabbed her legs, pushing them open (an easy task, she was weak) to a large "v" shape. The man rapidly, sloppily ripped open her shirt and caressed her naked torso. _

"_I will...subdue you..." he whispered and proceeded to take of her long and flowing skirt. _

"_Savor the sensation, Cornsilk! Let me capture you, open...open to me, allow me to give you what you have desired!" She screamed as the man laughed and laughed._

"_I am, the Creator! The Creator visions a perfect world, for I am a perfect Architect! Perfection is mine, it belongs to me, I created it! Mine, for me to hold, to cherish, to Create!" The man gently kissed Cornsilk's tear washed lips. _

"_Mine! Perfection is mine! You are the dagger I wield, I the hand to slash the world with it! Mine!" His voice seemed to echo around the walls as the moon gave a dazzling performance of a vast aurora. The moon lit the room to its full content, as it reflected off the pale and naked bodies that crowded the carpeted floor...His voice echoed, echoing...like a never ending song..._

The dawning of the sun came rapidly, to quickly for Sanzo's liking. He awoke, startled by Hakkai's still body that lay on top of him. He ripped Hakkai off his chest as Hakkai awoke too, vomiting on the perfect ground.

"Shit..." said Sanzo, massaging his forehead with his temples. Hakkai breathed heavily and wiped his dripping mouth on his sleeve.

"There were corpses...but...my god!--" said Hakkai, eyes widening as he looked around wildly and disturbed, "Where are they?!"

"The corpses. They've, just, gone!" growled Sanzo, "I hate moving dead things."

"Perhaps they were moved by someone, or something else."

"That's what I'd like to think," muttered Sanzo, standing up and stretching. The two men staggered out of the alley as the sun blinded their sleep deprived eyes.

In the distance, Sanzo and Hakkai heard the faint call of Gojyo and Goku calling their names.

Finally, Gojyo and Goku ran around the corner of the bell tower to embrace Sanzo and Hakkai.

"Shit, we thought the corpses got you!" gasped Goku has be wrapped his arms around Sanzo.

"GET OFF ME, MONKEY!" bellowed Sanzo, thwacking him with his fan. Goku rubbed his head as Gojyo explained their wild night.

"Well, we got up during the night because we couldn't sleep, right? So we go out walking, tripping over a few corpses here and there, when we here somebody walking also, around the bell tower--"

"You heard it to?" gasped Hakkai.

"Yeah!" shouted Goku, "It was like somebody pacing, you know, thump thump?"

"Shut up monkey. So we heard the pacing and looked up to the bell tower. The moon was all-weird; it only lit up the tower windows, oddly. So we look up there, and we see a figure of a human. Possibly a woman. We were just about to check it out, when these hanging corpses scared the shit out of us and we left the scene, back to the inn. But everywhere, it seemed like these corpses all hung from ropes. Sick and twisted!"

Everyone was silent, taking in Gojyo's tale.

"What do you think we should do, Sanzo?" asked Goku eagerly.

"What do you think, monkey?" he asked sarcastically, "We go up to the tower. We'll have a word with whoever is up there."

_The man stood up and stretched from above Cornsilk's ruined body. She was panting. Cornsilk sat up and rubbed her naked shoulders, hiding her breasts from his view. She stared, struck with shock, at the floor and not the man. The man laughed and grinned horribly. _

"_I quite enjoyed that," he said, pulling his shirt over his head. Cornsilk grabbed her own clothing and did the same before collapsing on the floor from lack of sleep._

"_Get up. You are so weak." the man muttered, and grabbed her underarms and heaved her onto the stool. He put a new canvas on the stand and clapped his hands together._

"_Time to paint! My favorite part of this brilliant day..."he shouted gleefully._

"_What...what do you want me to paint?" She stuttered, grabbing a brush, fully under his control, his wishes, to swept away, understanding now that she could no longer disobey._

"_You shall only address me as the Creator. Understand?"_

_She nodded numbly._

"_Creator...what do you wish me to paint today?"_

"_Excellent!" he shouted, raising his arms to the rafters below the large brass bell, "You're learning."_

_He rubbed his chin and thought to himself for a moment._

"_You have my painted my perfect city, my childless city. But there is still dirt yet to clean. Humans to be destroyed. So to continue the work of work, let's pluck off the city's people. Make the population two. Two. You and me and no one else! And since I can sense a creative flame burning in your soul, I'll let you do the dirty part and you can think of how ghastly their deaths will be."_

_Cornsilk nodded, eyes glassy, as she dipped her brush into Cornsilk and orange paint and dashed a few strokes on the blank canvas before her. After a sluggish hour, she had completed the city. Every few minutes, the man would whisper something into her ear and she nod, transfixed. Cornsilk washed the tip and saturated the bulb in a rich black. A few more strokes, and every structure were occupied by mangled and bloody corpses. Every door was open, revealing the mind-boggling scene._

"_You have taste," said the Creator, stroking her midnight sky colored hair._

_Cornsilk said nothing and simply gazed at the painting, seduced by the feast and show of blood and misery. Silently, a small breeze floated into the tower room and blew the torches flames away. Cornsilk stood gracefully and walked, hand in hand with the man, to gaze at what the paints had turned the city into. She turned and looked into his murky gray eyes, as if possessed and in a heavy trance. Subdued and tame she had become._

Loudly, the Sanzo party stormed up the twisting and winding staircase of the tower.

"I wonder...maybe the murderer...rests here..." said Hakkai between breaths as they ran up the stairs. When the four men finally reached the top, they came across a large wooden door, bolted with iron and locked with malice.

"Everyone out of the way!" shouted Hakkai before he summoned a large substance of ki and blasted the doorway with the powerful and looming energy that resided in his soul.The door fell like shattered glass...and revealed a carpeted room, a canvas stand, and a young woman with midnight sky colored hair sitting on the stone sill of the window. She stared, unmoving, giving no reaction to the young men now staring equally unmoving at her. The girl's hands were stained with paint, or blood(it was so red). No one dared to breathe. Then, Goku broke the silence and gasped as he gazed at the paintings now hanging on the wall: Ones of corpses, some hanging from ropes, some dying, the lit stars, the sinking moon, the perfect city, a young girl like the one before him, with perfect skin, eyes, hair... Sanzo strided into the room and ripped a painting of the wall. The girl suddenly screamed shrilly, and ran to Sanzo. She made an attempt to grab the painting out of his hands but missed, almost intentionally, and clutched his robes instead. She held on as Sanzo just watched with cold eyes. Tears erupted from her eyes, pouring down her cheeks as she sank to the ground, holding his robes, dragging Sanzo with her. He was thoroughly shocked, genuinely disturbed. The girl gazed into his brilliant violet eyes, and whispered hoarsely, "I have seen and done what no one has seen or done...Horrors unimaginable...there is no turning back..."

She cried harder. Sanzo roughly grabbed her wrists, pulling her hands away from his robes in the fashion he would normally, but stopped. Sanzo stopped. He then sensed something in this crying girl, something that once took the heart of him at a young age. As if she too, suffered a loss so painful, it would forever seal her heart to the joys of the outside world. Like you could never smile again. Never love...

"What is this shit?!" shouted Gojyo, walking over angrily pulling Sanzo up to face him.

"Would you shut your mouth, kappa?" said Sanzo, as Hakkai put a soft hand on Gojyo's shoulder.

"Sanzo, this girl destroyed all these people and we have to do something about it. She's clearly mad," said Hakkai, summoning ki that spread around the girl's body, placing her on the stool. The ki swung around her limbs like ropes, holding her in place.

"I didn't kill anyone...I only made it possible." whispered the girl, clutching the ends of the stool, her knuckles white.

Sanzo placed a sympethetic hand on her shoulder, to his companions' bewilderment.

"What is with you Sanzo?!" shouted Goku, to which he was answered by Sanzo holding his shoureiju to Goku's forehead.

"Like it or not, I don't think she killed all these people willingly. Her eyes...they tell me something. I see something that once resided in my eyes," said Sanzo. He looked straight into Gojyo's, Hakkai's, and Goku's eyes.

"We've all suffered loses, some greater than others. But her eyes tell me she has suffered much more than any of us. We're not perfect. Neither is she,"

At the word "perfect", the girl became rigid and white, as she croaked,

"Never say that word...never say it..."

Sanzo frowned and said, "What--?"

"He wanted perfection. He took me, and I gave Him perfection...in this city, in the sky, in the people...in me."

Gojyo looked at Hakkai, at Goku, and at Sanzo.

"What happened...can you tell us?" he asked softly to the girl.

"I can...but I cannot. If He were to come, to find you here...he would do far more acts worse than killing me,"

Goku withdrew his bow staff, and jubilantly, he shouted, "We'll make sure you're safe!"

She sighed heavily as the ki slowly fell away from her body.

"It started only a week ago. I was sitting at the fountain in the middle of the city, trying to paint the birds, when a man with dark hair, almost cut in the fashion as yours," she said, pointing to Hakkai.

"He came to me, and asked me what I was painting. What I could paint. I said everything, and it is no lie. He glared, disgusted, and he said, could you paint perfection? I said this city was perfection. I could paint the city. And I did, to his satisfaction. And he took me away to this tower, forcing me to paint perfect things for him. First, I painted the city again to his visions. Second, he forced me to paint a city without children. Then..." she stopped, as more tears fell. Sanzo wiped them away with his sleeve, and nodded.

"He...he became hateful, and he..." she placed her head in her hands, "I now carry the bastard's child. After, he clouded my vision, he took complete control. I was his puppet, and I am still. His words are my actions. I painted the city without its people, killed them off, painted them battered and bloodstained, hanging from ropes, laying in their homes, dead! Gruesome and painful deaths greeted them all in turn, all in one night...I did not murder these people willingly. If I could, I would give my very life to bring them back,"

She stood from her stool and walked stagnantly to the bell tower window. She grasped the edge with a shaking and white hand. She turned to face the four men, gazing into Sanzo's eyes with a passion and attraction like no other.

"I wanted to jump out this window when that monster, the Creator he was called, left to search for more imperfect lands. But I couldn't, I can't, because with his tone, his sweet intoxicating poems, he could give me a perfect description and I could paint anything with him. Anything he desired. When he left, I tried many times to paint with my own hand but no art was born. Only with him, I could live the life I dreamt when I was young-- a perfect artist,"

Gojyo pulled out a cigarette and lit it quietly.

Hakkai put his hand on Gojyo's shoulder.

Goku put away his staff.

Sanzo did not breathe or move.

"What is your name?" asked Sanzo.

The girl sighed, "It is...Mitsuya. The monster calls me Cornsilk,"

Goku unexpectedly laughed, "Cornsilk? This guy's insane!"

Sanzo withdrew his harisen and smacked Goku upright the forehead.

"Bastard," muttered Goku, rubbing his forehead. Mitsuya smiled a shy smile.

"My god..."she whispered, giggling, "I haven't been able...to smile for so long."

Hakkai smiled as well, "It's fun, isn't it?"

Gojyo raised an eyebrow. "You. Are. Pathetic, Hakkai."

Hakkai chuckled and put his hand on his forehead.

"Mitsuya, we have to get you out of here. We can't bring back the people, but if the Creator comes back, we're all dead,"

Mitsuya's smile faded.

"I can't go back. Not with this child, not with their blood on my hands,"

Surprisingly, Hakkai's casual posture turned angry. "You have to come back! I once had...a lover like you. Raped, controlled, and with child. She slit her throat in front of me when I had killed 1,000 demons to save her. Get out of this city, this tower. Don't make her mistake. My mistake. We can help you survive," Hakkai's companions stared in awe at their friend.

"Hakkai...does this mean...?" asked Gojyo

"Yes. I've put her death behind me,"

Goku grinned. "This is great!" said Goku.

The group of suffering misfits left the tower with Mitsuya, back to the inn, when to Hakkai's discomfort, Hakuryuu's state had only grown worse.

"Oh my," said Hakkai, stroking Hakuryuu's back, "We're not leaving any time soon! Hakuryuu's not getting any better,"

Sanzo sat down on one of the dormitory beds.

"Wonderful. We're sitting ducks to the Creator in a city which he and Mitsuya created and have absolute control,"

"I'm sorry..." whispered Mitsuya, sitting next to Sanzo, hair sheltering her perfect eyes.

"It's not your fault. I'm not blaming you,"

Gojyo laughed.

"So the monk's warming up to the pretty painter. This is something I have to write down..." THWACK! "Oww...Sanzo that fucking hurt!"

Hakkai stopped stroking Hakuryuu and placed a thoughtful finger on his cheek.

"I have an idea. It will require Mitsuya's utter strength, but I think we can do it,"

"Yeah?" said Sanzo, gazing at Mitsuya with misty eyes. She blushed slightly, as a small smile was twitching on the corner of Hakkai's mouth.

"We return to the tower. Mitsuya will paint the city again, this time with people and children. We will give them weapons and wings, and give them good strength to destroy the Creator,"

"It won't work," said Mitsuya simply, "The Creator was the only one who could dictate me the perfect visions, because he sunk into my heart, my soul, and--" she stopped, and stared at Sanzo with a feeling of discovery and amazement and revelation, as he too, then understood.

"And he loved me."


	3. Strikingly Captivating

Sanzo, Mitsuya, Hakkai, Gojyo, and Goku dashed up the winding staircase that connected a perfect ground to a perfect tower that sheltered a mighty bronze bell; it hung from the rafters, hanging on a tightly sewn rope, just waiting to drop and extend a fatal hand to its observer from beneath. Every time the motley group took a lunge up each perfect step was not like an action or movement—it was like a breath, each step of the staircase was another memory, bursting through debris of thoughts and then the layer of dreams.

The door was already smashed, and there was no sign of the Creator anywhere within the widely lightened room. A blank canvas stood on the metal stand, across from a cushioned stool. The windows' shimmering light gave the walls a yellow tint upon the pale, cream-colored paint.

The girl with the midnight sky colored hair sat on the stool. The man with purple eyes and a soft expression stood behind her, hand on her shoulder, whispering words of comfort and reassurance. The girl was nervous, and it showed plainly through her pale skin and shining gray eyes.

"Are you ready?" asked Sanzo as he bent down and whispered into her perfect ear. Mitsuya shook her head "no".

"Good. Because if you were, something would be fucked up," Mitsuya grinned a small grin. She grabbed Sanzo's hand and squeezed it. Sanzo, never experiencing a woman's compassion or love before, didn't know how to react. Sanzo's teacher and master, Sanzo-houshi-sama, loved him like a son. A horrible psychotic man murdered him, and this situation with Mitsuya left Sanzo with a revolting sting of cruel irony and coincidence resting on his tongue. But this was a different love, different then any feeling Sanzo had ever experienced. In fact, love could be an inaccurate description for what the two felt. It was more like lust, desire, want, a need, a craving. Sanzo and Mitsuya were destined to be together, for love, death, anything; but together in the end.

"Mitsuya, you know what you need to paint, yes?" said Hakkai stepping into the room, gazing at the ominous bronze bell above him.

"A happy ending," she whispered, and Sanzo nodded to Hakkai's direction.

"Here we go," whispered Goku eagerly and Gojyo silenced him with an angry glare.

"Imagine a city," said Sanzo quietly, as all other mouths were shut and all others remained listening. Mitsuya shut her eyes and breathed deeply.

"A city, where the roofs are orange and silence soaks the land. The city's people are thriving and prosperous. The city is decked in flowers and bathed in sunlight…" Mitsuya dipped her brush carefully into a rich brown paint and began to place Sanzo's words on the canvas.

Minutes dragged by, as Sanzo continued to mutter into her ear and the blank canvas was transformed into a ravished piece of art. The canvas itself seemed to shine, as though lit from a flame. Blazing it was indeed, and it suddenly shot into flames. Mitsuya yelped and jumped back, knocking the stool over startling Sanzo.

"The painting, it just—" said Sanzo, as a look of worry came to face.

"Burst into flames…" whispered Mitsuya, "He's here," Mitsuya crumbled into Sanzo's arms as Hakkai, Gojyo and Goku ran to his side. They brandished their weapons as a voice echoed throughout the room, stirring fear beyond no other,

"Cornsilk's something isn't she?" laughed the voice as Sanzo calmly fired three bullets into the ceiling.

"Come out," said Sanzo quietly, "Show yourself, damnit!"

"DON'T FIRE BULLETS INTO MY CELING!" screeched the voice as the Creator, tall and menacing, descended from the rafters, his handsome face twisted into an ugly distortion. He was frowning furiously, his hands clenched at his sides. Somehow, strangely, the Creator was floating only a few inches above the carpeted floor. Mitsuya could sense a dark strength rising within his rotting soul, much darker (not eviler) then past _events._

"Cornsilk…I'm so glad you're here, you're just the person I wanted to see," The Creator's mood switched rapidly as he grinned and offered a hand to help her up. Sanzo held his shoureiju and aimed dead center at the Creator's chest.

"You make one move and you can say goodbye, you sick and twisted idiot," The Creator laughed, his shoulders shaking.

"You think a little handgun scares me? Terrifying indeed…" The Creator snatched Mitsuya's arm and wrenched her toward him by surprise. She was limp in his hold, her back pinned to the Creator's chest. With the other hand, the Creator slowly stroked Mitsuya's smooth skin, toying with her like a puppet.

"Must you be so harsh to your host? What have I done to offend you, my good sirs?" asked the Creator with obvious false innocence.

"A lot of shit," said Goku, brandishing his weapon as Hakkai and Gojyo did the same.

"Let Mitsuya go--," said Hakkai

"HER NAME IS CORNSILK!" screeched the Creator. His voiced dropped to an angry whisper. "This is my dwelling and you shall refer to my painter as Cornsilk. I make the rules here," Mitsuya slowly opened her eyes, and smirked.

"But without me, you would have no control over the rules," she said dangerously. With that risky comment, the Creator's eyes widened, as they then grew dark and he clenched his teeth together.

"Sit down," he said lividly, pushing Mitsuya into the stool. She sat with no protest, as if transfixed again.

"No, Mitsuya—" started Sanzo as the Creator grinned at Sanzo, "You like my puppet, my china doll?"

Sanzo blushed furiously, eyes thinning.

"That's beside the point,"

"You like her, obviously, but do you love her?"

Silence.

"What do you mean, damnit?"

The Creator clapped his hands together and then picked the charred canvas that was recently painted. He seemed all to eager to explain.

"Please, do let me tell. You tried to paint a canvas to shape and fashion reality, hoping it would work because you loved Cornsilk. After failing, the painting burst into flames. Do you know why?"

Sanzo glanced at the floor.

"Because you obviously don't love her. Or perhaps your heart is to small and concealed and hidden away you couldn't love her even if you tried,"

"Sanzo, don't listen to him!" shouted Hakkai.

"Poor Sanzo…" the Creator laughed as tears welled in Sanzo's eyes, something that's never happened since he was a small boy,

"He wanted so much to help the woman he could've loved. To save her, to scare away the nasty man in her nightmare, to hold her and make sure everything's all right…" the Creator mocked

"Shut up, bastard…" whispered Sanzo dangerously, cocking his gun.

"Don't use those mean words, Sanzo. You don't know what trouble it could get you into,"

"Damn, why can't we just kill him Sanzo?" shouted Goku, raising his staff high above his head as Gojyo grabbed it tightly.

"Because, monkey, we can't attack his because he has the girl as a shield. You're a stupid chimp," said Gojyo matter-a-factly. Goku growled and stayed put, his feet planted.

"You are a stupid chimp, aren't you?" laughed the Creator, "Well, truthfully, you're not a chimp yet,"

"And what do you mean by that?!" shouted Goku.

"Perhaps Cornsilk can explain…" said the Creator gleefully as he whispered a few words into Mitsuya's ear. He stopped, her eyes widened. Something inside her wanted to fight the urge to pick up the brush and paint the grave scene pictured in the Creator's twisted mind. Two sides of her heart fought, and it showed through her eyes and skin as she twitched and cried and screamed. Two sides of her heart fought to control the other. And the wrong side won. Mitsuya stopped twitching, her eyes losing dialect, as she calmly picked a brush. The Creator gave her a new canvas from the air and she began to paint quickly and fiercely with a passion so raw and unbelievable. Slowly, Goku's shape began to change. He grew hair all over his body, and his screams (high pitched they already were) became meaningless screeches. Soon enough, he was an innocent chimp, dashing across the floor and up the walls and into the rafters.

"Goku, holy shit!" yelled Gojyo, dropping the staff as he and Hakkai chased after the screeching chimp. They were stopped in their tracks by the Creator's single finger flicking upward. They stood paralyzed in their exact positions, feet glued to the carpet, mouths open and faces frowning. It was a like a snapshot photo had caught them in action and clicked. The running motion was still intact and Hakkai and Gojyo's arms were still in front of them, trying to reach Goku the monkey.

"Such men with energy to chase after a monkey have to be calm, perhaps nailed to a wall to get them to slow down!" said the Creator, shaking his finger with dissatisfaction. With those fateful words, Hakkai and Gojyo moved once again. Only because of the rusted nails that now resided in their now bloody palms, dragging them back to the wall and trapping them there. They sunk as far as they could without ripping the metal out of their hands. Pain shot through their wrists and arms when unfrozen they became as Sanzo irately just watched the Creator's every move.

"Bastard," croaked Gojyo, barely supporting his own sagging weight.

"You're next in line, Sanzo. And the only woman who you ever tried to love is going to kill you,"


	4. Beginning Of The End

A puppet on strings is a wooden figure, carved, painted and adorned with silks and pearls and feathers. The strings attach to the wrists, head, legs and feet. The strings tie of to a wooden cross of some sort to make the puppet move and dance. A puppet is used to entertain and delight, to satisfy, to use and abuse at the makers will. But what any normal puppeteer couldn't spot is that puppets are quite diverse; in such ways humans can be puppets too…not actually human, not all puppet. But like Pinocchio, many puppets can be rebellious. And then again, some stay silent…

It all depends on who holds the strings. Mitsuya was a puppet, her wooden limbs weighing her down and the strings tied tightly. Her fleshy heart within debris of tree was still beating though, because a heart is never truly gone or dead…no matter who twists it and bends it.

"Bastard…" whispered Gojyo as he struggled to maintain his position. Blood dripped down his wrists and arms like melted butter, soaking his skin and staining his clothing. The Creator just stood and watched and laughed. Hakkai sagged as well, clenching his teeth and wincing.

You could hardly say Sanzo was trying to help, but in truth, there was nothing he could do. They were up against a madman, controlling everything around them that would stop at nothing to murder the Sanzo party.

"You're next in line, Sanzo. And the only woman you ever tried to love is going to kill you,"

Sanzo frowned, raising his gun. He fired two shots to the Creator's belly as the bullets plummeted through his body. Leaving no trace of any wound, he laughed again. Harder.

"Did you honestly think that with all the power I have, two bullets could bring me down? My my, we are in need of some new lessons…Cornsilk, paint me a picture, please?"

No reply, just blank, heartless staring.

"A picture…madness, saturating every drop of paint. Give me a vision, give me a death of a certain someone standing before you and I. Give me shards of glass…penetrate his body, rip his robes and slice his skin…" Every word echoed through the tower.

Mitsuya dipped her brush into a deep brown paint. She placed on the canvas and stroked gracefully, and then began to move her wrist in a circular motion. Then white paint. More circles.

Sanzo just stared.

"Run, Sanzo…Just run, there's nothing you can do," whispered Hakkai, as the nails stretched his palm wretchedly. Hakkai dropped to the ground, his hands useless and his mind and heart in worse shape. Gojyo dropped as well. The nails fell harmlessly to the floor beside them.

Immediately in a blinding orchestra of sound and Technicolor, a roar of shearing light, the windows of the tower shattered and began to rise from the floor. In a simple movement, they became a swirl, a whirlpool of window fragments. Very sharp window fragments.

Creator smirked.

Sanzo looked down and clenched his teeth.

A small, unrecognizable tear fell from Mitsuya's cheek. Like a glistening diamond to a porcelain mask.

"Your painting serves as my weapon, Cornsilk, and now show me his fate! Give me Sanzo, dead and filled with _glass_…"

"Mitsuya, don't—"

"Be quiet, your words mean nothing! She can't hear you!"

"Damn you and your paintings!"

"Silence! You are a waste of pathetic human life! Cornsilk doesn't love you, she loves me!"

Sanzo quieted his voice, crossed his arms and smiled.

"So this is what its all about, then?" Sanzo laughed.

"What are you saying!" the Creator whispered dangerously.

"The only reason you want me dead, is because you want Mitsuya to love you. So you kidnap her, rape her, posses her, and then you expect Mitsuya to except your so-called 'love' and love you back!"

A vein pulsed in the Creator's forehead as he clamped a hand down on Mitsuya's feeble shoulder.

"Kill him already, just do it—"

"This isn't love, idiot, and it never will be!"

"BE QUIET! SHE _LOVES_ ME! YOU JUST DON'T KNOW LOVE! Your heart is too small!"

Sanzo laughed another laugh.

"Mitsuya," he said simply, "I love you,"

Silence. The glass started to ascend more and dance in a faster circular motion. Sanzo's eyes widened as he yelled, louder this time, "I love you, Mitsuya!"

Another tear fell from her blank eyes.

Sanzo reached in his robes and grabbed his shoureiju, and fired across the room to the wall with the paintings just as the glass began to charge, so to speak…

The glass dropped and shattered at Sanzo's feet.

The Creator screamed an inhuman wail.

"You…how could you stop—"

The Creator turned his head to Mitsuya and it dawned on him. He gazed at the a certain painting (on the floor, of course) that had been shot by Sanzo, at the moment when the glass almost hit him. The Creator walked to the painting. It was a simple one, the first masterpiece. There was a girl with midnight sky colored hair, sitting at an ornate fountain, with a tall man beside her. The Creator glared at Sanzo, grasping the painting with shaking hands.

"How did you know which painting to shoot!", he croaked. There was a bullet hole right where the tall man's head had been.

"If Mitsuya could paint and her art would alter and twist everything and everyone around her, then the equal logic would be to destroy the paintings. The opposite reaction happens, and the paintings are reversed. Look at your precious painter. Look what a simple bullet can do,"

At those words, Mitsuya's eyes had dialect and her cheeks became rosy. All hell loosened the grip on her soul and mind her eyes shined with tears. Those tears, those diamonds, shining clear as glass run down her face like dancing a ballroom tango. They plummet and fall and redden her face and moisten her lips. The salty sting brings Mitsuya the memoirs of an ocean.

"Sanzo!" She whispered hoarsely and desperately, throwing the painting to the ground in an abrupt motion, spilling the paints on the floor and staining the carpet.

"WHAT DOES EVERYONE HAVE AGAINST MY CARPET!" screamed the Creator, grasping Mitsuya's wrist and wrenching it stalwartly. There was a sick cracking sound as she shrieked and grasped her hand softly in pain, melting to the ground in a clump.

Sanzo growled and aimed his gun again at more paintings.

"Don't you dare fire, or—"BANG!

Sanzo smirked as another canvas fell to the floor. It was a picture of children. Lots of smiling tots. A chill ran down Sanzo's spine as a small bullet hole filled the space where a head of a tall, dark man used to be.

"My painting…" gasped The Creator as Mitsuya struggled with her broken limb. The Creator kicked her as she whimpered softly. Sanzo twisted his pinky in her ear.

"I WILL KILL YOU, SANZO!" screamed the Creator, and bent low and jolted off like a rocket toward him. With an outstretched arm, he reached for Sanzo's neck but Sanzo simply stepped out of the way and fired to more bullets. More canvases fell with snap! as the Creator stumbled and stopped in front of Hakkai and Gojyo's bodies.

"That's interesting," Sanzo remarked, reloading the gun, "Looks like you screw up every time you lose a painting. I think I'll play a game. How many paintings can I destroy before you die?"

"No—" croaked the Creator, standing up and brandishing a fist.

"I have a gun and you a hand. Charming," said Sanzo, firing three bullets. Quietly, everything around the three began to change. The sun became brighter. The carpet faded. Mitsuya's figure began to change, her hands, delicate and soft became bruised and rough. Her clothing, comfortable and stylish, turned to gray and brown wool. Her lips plumped, her skin scratched and hurt. The sounds of people, happy people, filled the gloomy aura. Bullets penetrated the air like fire and ice, paintings fell, and surroundings morphed. Goku's screams quieted and he was human once again. Gojyo and Hakkai's wounds were gradually healed, as they lethargically got back up. The Creator, though, was twitching, crying, groping his face with his nails, falling to the ground and hurting inside and out.

"Please…just kill me!" the Creator bellowed from the darkest crevasses of his rugged heart.

"With pleasure, I assure you," said Sanzo carefully shutting one eye and aiming not toward the cowering creature resting on the beaten carpet, but the fragile and brittle cord latched to the tip of the bell.

"Sanzo, don't!—" Mitsuya shrieked abruptly, raising a quick hand as if to stop the blow from the bell, but alas no dice. A simple hand could not stop the fate bestowed upon her twisted muse. The brass bell fell from the rafters with a crash, and falling upon The Creator, but didn't create any hole in the wooden floor. The impact was immediate, but he didn't die in a matter of seconds, no, he was suffering. Pain shot threw his back and paralyzed his spine, so close to death and on the edge of oblivion.

"Why?" he asked hollowly, his voice echoing of the walls of the imperfect tower, "One simple request, and you failed to shoot a bullet through my head. One simple shot…just one…" He coughed, blood spilled on to the floor as Mitsuya slowly approached the Creator. She sat, and cradled his head and back in her arms and whispering softly, "You were my inspiration, my perfection…"

The Creator gazed back at her with blank eyes as his lids began to close.

"My painter…you were always perfect. You never needed me. Paint again, Mitsuya, forget The Creator. Live with your savior, your violet eyed and golden haired reassurance,"

"No, I can't just let you die. You are perfect, perfect in my eyes,"

"You could never love me,"

"Just rest…"

And with that, his eyes shut and his breathing ceased and she cried. She cried as Sanzo slowly put away his gun.

"Why did you kill him? Why couldn't you have just let him live, damnit!" Mitsuya jumped up, and with a fiery rage, she pushed Sanzo as he stumbled and yelled,

"What is the matter you? He fucking raped you, tortured you, almost killed my friends, and you're sorry he's dead!"

"He LOVED ME, Sanzo! "

"I LOVE you, Mitsuya! Are you saying you actually, forget loving, forget adoring, _considered_ him to be at the level of your respect? After what I did you save you, how I risked my god damn life, you're telling me you want him back!"

"No! Sanzo, we had a connection"

"What!"

Mitsuya glared horribly. "Sanzo," she started simply, "You don't love me. You don't know me,"

Sanzo shook with anger. "You fucking owe me for saving your life!"

"HAVE YOU EVER HAD SOMEONE WHO LOVED YOU DIE, SANZO?"

Silence.

"The fact of the matter is, Sanzo, I don't love him, and I don't love you. I didn't like him, I never will. But when you have someone who loved you die, it's different. Perhaps you just don't understand!"

Sanzo shut his eyes in aggravation.

"I understand," he growled, "Something like this happened when I was very young,"

"Is that why you're so bitter? Because you couldn't stop fate?"

"Don't call it fate," said Hakkai slowly, interjecting in the argument.

"Stay out of this," snarled Mitsuya, crossing her arms in defiance.

"Fate didn't take the ones we love, it was all bad timing," said Gojyo, standing at Hakkai's side.

"I never experienced love in my life, Sanzo. I didn't have a family. But when HE showed up, I didn't care what happened. He loved me, he actually adored me. That counts for something,"

"What about me, Mitsuya? I guess my 'love' doesn't 'count' for much!"

Mitsuya stamped her foot annoyance, "You don't love me, damnit! You loved Cornsilk, perfect and beautiful and silent Cornsilk. You never knew ME, and I won't give you the chance!"

"Why not?"

"Can we go?" shouted Goku in the midst of all the angst.

"Yes, Sanzo, let's get out of this tower. Hakuryuu is probably well. We could continue West, forget all of this," said Hakkai as Gojyo and Goku walked to the doorframe.

"Fine," he hissed, "Let's get out of here, for fuck's sake. I'm tired and I need a smoke,"

Mitsuya stared in amazement.

"Go," she said, pointing irately to the stairs. "Just get the hell away from me. I don't need you or your friends,"

"Don't make the same mistake I did, Mitsuya. Don't shut everyone away,"

"GO," she said, crying.

"I will," said Sanzo, walking irritably unhurriedly, watching the tears run from her face.


	5. Could It Be?

"Sanzo," Hakkai murmured, "Are you sure you want to leave Mitsuya alone like that?" Hakkai jogged after Sanzo's quick pace down the winding steps of the tower.

"Very sure. Don't ask me again,"

Gojyo raised a skeptical eyebrow, but said nothing.

Hakuryuu was healing well with Hakkai's power, and the city populace were grateful enough to treat the party with offerings, fine food and warms beds (with possibly warmed by a body, in Gojyo's case.) Hakuryuu, they said, would be ready in few days time. 'Till then, they said, feel free to give yourselves the luxury of freedom and independence all around the city.

Sanzo spent his time alone in the inn dorm room, smoking away at time while Hakkai followed Gojyo to bars and restaurants to enjoy the city's evening festivals. Goku ate happily to his hearts' content.

The same evening of the Bell Toll Happening (the villagers name for the day when the Creator was justified, in respect to the Sanzo party.)

Red lanterns adorned the streets for a crimson glow, and some children danced and ran with small glowing orbs in their hands. It was a paranormal, mystical, ravenous, musical, happy night. As dusk approached, man and woman raised their glasses to the heaven in tribute to the saviors. There were parades, puppet shows and street venders flaring their stuff. Exotic female dancers were given the limelight as they enchanted and awed visitors with foreign chants and techniques. There was a meal for everyone, bars and restaurants and taverns closed later at night. More drinks, more celebration. Gojyo and Hakkai roamed the newly paved streets, promenading and spending the time with great leisure. They found a less crowded bar and got themselves a table.

"Do you think Sanzo will be o.k, Gojyo?" asked Hakkai, sitting down comfortably.

Gojyo frowned.

"Honestly, no."

"Yeah,"

"Seemed a bit abrupt, Sanzo stalking away like that, just leaving Mitsuya, huh?"

"It did. There will be tension when we leave, you understand that, don't you Gojyo?"

"Damn sure I do,"

The conversation ended as a tall waitress with a slinky short skirt and blouse walked to their table. She placed two beer bottles in front of the men.

"How can I help you sirs tonight?"

Gojyo looked at Hakkai, and took a long swig of booze.

"I'm not sure," he said simply, shrugging and then letting his cigarette fall to the ground slyly.

"Oh, I'll pick that up for you, sir," as the waitress bent over and grabbed the burning roll of paper. Her skirt was inefficient to cover what needed to be covered.

Gojyo whistled and whispered to Hakkai, "That's a nice view,"

The waitress flushed and smirked.

"Can I serve you, sir, any other way?" she asked sweetly, her tongue moistening her bottom lip in anticipation.

"Yeah, I can think of few ways," muttered Gojyo, his eyes glued to her blouse and the goods underneath.

The waitress shifted bent over to whisper a few words in Gojyo's ears. Hakkai couldn't hear, but the way Gojyo was smiling, Hakkai had a feeling he didn't want to know what the waitress was discussing. The waitress walked away with a small seductive smile on her face. Gojyo leaned back and grinned.

"Those women are a piece of cake, and damn! With my appetite, I think I'll still be hungry after one slice,"

Hakkai sighed.

"One lady after another, huh, Gojyo?"

"That's the way I work. Maybe the monkey will get laid tonight too,"

Hakkai chuckled.

"Yeah, I could see him getting some," said Hakkai as Gojyo laughed.

"What about you, Hakkai? Are you craving some nasty fun?"

Hakkai thought for a second.

"One nighters aren't my thing, Gojyo,"

"You kidding me? Free sex, and you never see them again. No commitment,"

"I'd like sex. But not without commitment,"

"Whatever. I'm set for tonight!"

The waitress reappeared minutes later with two steaming plates of dumplings, rice, sauces and other delicacies.

"But we didn't order or pay—"

The waitress laughed.

"Hon, how I'm gonna get paid tonight by your friend, you go ahead and eat,"

Gojyo offered to buy her a drink. She nodded and he handed her money.

"Make it three of whatever you're getting," added Hakkai as she slinked away. "Gojyo, I hate to admit this, but you're smooth,"

Gojyo smirked.

"Experience, good looks, and a long—"

"That's very nice, Gojyo, but please! Let's just keep this sortive talk at a minimum,"

The dinner and drinking continued late into the night, when the party of three proceeded to go back to the inn and rest (I think.)

Sanzo was not in a good mood. He was pissed at everyone and everything.

_It was my fault._

He took a long puff of the cigarette and wiped his forehead.

_I should've listened to her._

He rammed a fist down on the bed he lying on.

I need her. I could find her. Now. Later. Never… 

There was a knock on the door.

"Leave me fucking alone!" he yelled, cocking his gun dangerously.

The door creaked open slowly.

"Hey, Sanzo—" Sanzo fired two bullets into the wall.

"It's just me, Hakkai, we're back, just wanted you to know—"

"What?" growled Sanzo.

_Go away._

"Gojyo will be busy tonight, so out of warning, you don't walk in on him,"

"As usual,"

Hakkai popped his head in the room.

"I'll be—Sanzo, are you crying?"

BANG!

"LEAVE ME ALONE,"

"See you in the morning, Sanzo,"

BANG!

After the quick rendezvous with Hakkai, the monk went back to sulking and moping and smoking his soul out like there was no tomorrow. After an hour or so, Sanzo was drifting off to sleep, soothed in an peculiar way to the rough sounds of Gojyo and the waitress in the room next to his. With each thump and groan or giggle, Sanzo's eyes lowered slowly. His rest was interrupted though, as the door was creaked open slowly, ever so sudden. A pale hand rested on the doorknob, as a young woman with hair like a ravens' wing walked inside, shoulders slumped and eyes bloodshot from tears…


End file.
